


When it Rains it Pours

by Kiki_Kat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Angry Sam Winchester, Bad Parent John Winchester, Broken Sam Winchester, Crying Dean Winchester, Crying Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Being an Asshole, Dean Winchester Does Not Understand, Dean Winchester Has Abandonment Issues, Dean Winchester Has Anger Issues, Dean Winchester Has a Heart, Dean Winchester Just Wants To Be Loved, Dean Winchester Loves Pie, Dean Winchester Loves Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Needs to Remove Head From Ass, Dean Winchester Removes Head From Ass, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester Fight, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean Winchester is Not a Morning Person, Depressed Sam Winchester, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, Ew, Gen, Guilty Dean Winchester, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, I think?, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insecure Dean Winchester, John Winchester Being an Asshole, No Wincest, Not a Happy Story, Oblivious Dean Winchester, Oblivious John Winchester, Older Sibling Sam Winchester, POV Second Person, Pre-Series, Sad Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Angst, Sam Winchester Does Not Care, Sam Winchester Does Not Go to Stanford, Sam Winchester Has Self-Esteem Issues, Sam Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, Sam Winchester Needs a Hug, Sam Winchester Whump, Sam Winchester is Not Okay, Sam Winchester is Older Than Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester is So Done, Sam Winchester-centric, Sam emotionless, Self-Harm, Self-Harming Sam Winchester, Self-Hating Sam Winchester, Self-Sacrificing Sam Winchester, Suicidal Sam Winchester, Suicide Attempt, Younger Sibling Dean Winchester, bit too late though, doesnt help much, lotsa hurt, meh whatever, oof, somewhere lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28984062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiki_Kat/pseuds/Kiki_Kat
Summary: Some dreams aren’t meant to come true. Or last, for that matter.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	When it Rains it Pours

**Author's Note:**

> Idk what it is....I’ve been in a really angsty mood lately....¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ so ye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re not sure what it is. 
> 
> You can’t look at him the same way anymore. 
> 
> Not exactly, at least.

You can’t really look at him the same way anymore.   
  


He was still your brother. Except you don’t know how to feel.   
  


Growing up you always liked to believe that you were on the same side.   
  


Except...you should have known.   
  


_You should have known.  
  
_

He does everything that your father tells him to do. Without question. It had always infuriated you.

Didn’t he have a mind of his own? An opinion of his own?   
  


No, of fucking course not, right?   
  


“What a stupid question, Winchester” you breathe out loud to yourself, trying to calm your palpitations and boiling rage but you just can’t help it.   
  


You feel _so_ angry. _Betrayed_.   
  


And oddly enough, envious.   
  


Not of anyone specifically.   
  


You’re jealous of families. _Those_ families. Not just the ones who haven’t lost their mothers to a fucking demon, but the ones who were actually _happy_.   
  


The ones who, when a child gets a scholarship somewhere they react in happiness, they throw a party, take pictures, presents, a cake for Christ’s sake! They hug and tell you how much they’re proud and happy for you and excited yet anxious but still so damn proud.

_Samuel you ungrateful piece of shit!  
_

You suppose that you were asking to much by having hope that they would be just a little happy for you.   
  


Of course you wouldn’t get a “Nice job, son” or a “Way to go, Sammy!”, no because thats being selfish as you’ve been told.   
  


_You really are a bitch, you know that? Thinkin’ about walkin’ out on me and Dad like that? You selfish sonuvabitch!  
_

For fuck’s sake, if your father were to tell him to jump off a bridge he would do it without a doubt.   
  


So of course he would side with him.   
  


It had still stung. You had always stuck up for him and for the longest time he had done the same for you. 

Shockingly, up until now.   
  


Clenching the acceptance paper, a small sob slips out and you instantly curse yourself because _damnit Winchesters don’t cry._

”You either tell them you’re not going or your ass is out of here, you hear me? And don’t you _dare_ fucking come back.” Dad had told—more like _growled_ at you as he walked out the door.   
  


You had looked at Dean, opening your mouth to say something, a beg a plea _anything_ —

“Save it.” He shot before you even got a word to out and merely followed your father, slamming the door.

You didn’t know what you were going to do. You felt so fucking miserable because you worked for this and you want it _so_ bad—

And if you took it, your father would disown you. Dean would more than likely follow in his footsteps. You’d never hear from either of them again.

You knew your father. It didn’t make it hurt any less, but you were used to this treatment and had even expected it when you applied.   
  


But it was different with Dean, and it was the sucker of all sucker punches when he had been equally enraged as your dad.

Dean would _hate_ you. If he doesn’t already.   
  


And you would absolutely hate and kick yourself for the rest of your life for your next decision.   
  


But so would you if you chose the latter.

It should be so easy. So damn easy to say “Fine then” and grab your things and go.   
  


And yet it isn’t.   
  


That rebellious flame that you usually have, fiery and proud and true is extinguished into nothing but sad sparks leaving you empty and exhausted.   
  


Almost funny how something like this is what it took for it to disappear. It’s usually so unstoppable.

You trudge upstairs, feeling as if every time you move your leg you’re pulling it out of quicksand or mud.   
  


As you sit in front of the computer, you suddenly become anxious. You don’t know what to say.   
  


What _can_ you say?   
  


After a few minutes of overthinking, you finally come up with a feeble e-mail.   
  


_Thank you so much for this opportunity, but due to circumstances I am unable to attend. Have a nice day.  
_

It’s weak and lame. But there’s no way you are going to humilate yourself with “I can’t go because if I do my family will disown me”.   
  


You’re many things, but stupid isn’t one of them.   
  


With a shaking hand and a thick swallow, you press the send button and as you do you can feel something shatter inside of you.   
  


At a loss of what else to do, you cry. 


End file.
